We All Have Our Angels And Demons
by PandoraTheFox
Summary: Dean and Sam are dead, so when the angels and demons are trying to open The Cage and kickstart the apocalypse, the world needs a new team of saviors: the cambion that everyone wants either dead or on their side, the hunter by blood that had his memories stolen, and the hollow vessel that the angels and demons will do anything to have. Future Canon AU. Possible background romances.


**Author's Note: I've always loved Team Free Will 2.0 fics and fanart, so I decided to make my own fanfiction. This first chapter is in Claire's point of view, but I don't know whether I'll stick to just hers for the rest of the story (depends on how my story blossoms, I suppose). And this follows everything that has happened during the SPN seasons (so, in a weird way, it is sort of canon in a sense), but this takes place in the future. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any SPN characters for they belong to Kripke and their other copyright owners.**

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"My name is Claire Novak and I did not kill my mother." The blonde twenty-one year old stated in a clear and confident voice, totally unfazed at the question after being asked it everyday for the last three years of her life.

The psychiatrist sighed as she scribbled something on her clipboard, "Ms. Novak, just saying your name is fine."

"Yes, before if I do that, then how will you know the actual truth?" Claire pointed out plainly as she anxiously picked at her fingernails, a terrible habit she picked up at the Mental Institution while she was surrounded by the _real _crazy people that all the doctors and nurses insisted that she belongs with.

But you see, Claire knew the truth; it's everyone else who were too ignorant to listen to her.

"Why do you think you're here, Ms. Novak?" The psychiatrist asked calmly, patiently waiting for her usual denial response.

"Because my father got possessed by an angel named Castiel and abandoned me and my mother," She explained boredly, knowing she was only wasting her breath as she told the doctor the harsh reality, "Castiel promised my father that he would keep us safe, but he broke that one too since the exact day I turned eighteen, a demon took over my body and made me kill my own mother," Claire leaned into the doctor and whispered lowly through clenched teeth, "It might have my fingerprints on the kitchen knife that was soaked in my mom's blood, but I wasn't the one who slit her throat when she wouldn't tell me where my father was. That _thing _that tried to kill me when I was eleven years old did, and just hopped out of me the minute the police busted through the apartment door."

"Ms. Novak," The psychiatrist said with frustration laced in her usual sickening sweet tone she used to treat Claire and the other patients like fucking three year olds, "You know I can't help you if you don't help yourself."

"Who said I wanted any of your help?" Claire demanded sourly as she leaned back in her chair and stared challengingly at the graying-haired doctor that was just like the rest.

The psychiatrist pursed her thin pale lips and met Claire's gaze for a few moments before she eventually let out a quiet sigh and rose from her chair, "Ms. Novak, when you recognize that you have a serious problem with not living in reality, you know where to find me."

Claire rolled her eyes and said coolly, "Does that mean I'm dismissed?"

"For now." She replied stiffly but that was enough for Claire as she stood up and calmly walked out of the office.

Claire looked down the sterile white hall at all the insane patients with matted hair and yellowing teeth, mumbling softly to themselves as the workers ushered them into their rooms. How could they think she was one of them? Unlike the other lunatics, Claire made sure to brush her long blonde hair and kept all her personal hygiene in perfect condition, even having enough sense to floss and shower by herself (they tried to assist her with that the first day she was checked in there, and let's just say the two employees got a lot of money for their bloodied face and broken ribs). Claire shook her head and made her way towards her room, ignoring the cheery waves and childish greetings from the patients as she passed by.

Once safely in her room with the door slammed soundly behind her, She let out a long sigh and rubbed her pulsing temples. She hated it here—hated the giggling patients that acted like preschoolers and looked up to her as a grown-up when they were mostly twenty years older than her, hated the doctors with their condescending smiles and pretentious remarks when Claire tried to tell them over and over again what was really going on, hated the gagging pills they would shove down her throat that Claire vomitted back up right after they left, hated the piece of knowledge that even in a room full of people with insane pasts and stories, _she didn't belong there._

Claire Novak didn't belong anywhere.

Deciding to take a shower to help ease her conscious, Claire went into the bathroom and stripped the itchy hospital down off of her. Though just as she looked up and saw herself in the old dusty mirror, Claire couldn't help but be disgusted at her own image.

She had long straight light blonde hair that reached the middle of her back, ivory skin that managed to stay somewhat smooth after being locked up in here all day everyday except for the brief hour they released all patients to the playground in the backyard to get at least some sun, soft pink lips that were cracked and bloodied after years of chewing them every time she was dreadfull miserable (which as always), but it wasn't until she got her eyes that she felt an unsettling rage build up inside her.

Deep blue irises that glistened like a tumbling ocean storm stared back at her, filled with not the wild naivety and fun-loving carelessness that most girls her age have reflecting in their gazes, but blue eyes with solemn wisdom and crippling sorrow that only a bitter old man should have. Suddenly, she felt her hands curl tightly in fists at her side; there was a lot if things she despised about herself, but none could compare to her loathing hatred that ate at her insides every time she looked at her wide eyes that had seen more violence and brutality than any young girl ever should.

Suddenly, Claire launched her fist at the wall mirror and shattered it to pieces, tiny shards of glass cutting through her flesh and sinking deep into her open wounds. Unsurprisingly, she didn't feel the piercing pain of her stinging hand—she only felt a deep annoyance that despite not having to see them, Claire still had the ocean blue eyes that reminded her way too much of her deadbeat father and selfish angel.

Claire knew she'd have to show her injury to the doctor for her to patch her up (Claire could do it herself, but she had none of the supplies to stop the stinging or clear out the blossoming infections), but she decided to take the shower she's been dying for first.

Under the scalding hot spray of water, Claire closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the burning pain that only added to her throbbing hand. Because oddly enough, the only times she's felt truly at home was when she felt the familiar piercing pain that reminded her of the day Jimmy Novak had finally said _"Yes" _and made her life a living hell.

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"Ms. Novak." The sudden voice coming from the door made Claire look up from her freshly bandaged hand to see a worker dressed in the usual pure white uniform that made him appear like a haunting ghost under his pale blonde hair and fair skin.

But that wasn't what got her attention—it was the dark haired boy that looked around her age carrying a light duffle bag who was standing next to the employee that made her irritation from being disrupted turn into slight curiosity.

"This is Mr. Braeden," The worker said and the boy gave her a weak smile and wave as the ghostly man continued, "Due to lack of space, he'll be joining you in this room." Upon being prompted by the pushy employee, the boy slowly walked over and flopped down on the vacant hospital bed beside her.

"Remember, lights out in ten minutes." He said and with that, he was gone, leaving Claire alone with her new roommate that was watching her with an unreadable expression. Even in the cheap fluorescent lighting, Claire could see his illuminating mossy green eyes as they stared at her questionably, as if wondering if she was going to make the first move.

"My name is Claire Novak," She eventually told him, hating the overgrown silence of the quiet room, "And people say I'm a murderer."

Mr. Braeden's wilted smile widened as he said in a silky voice, "And what do you say?"

"That I'm an empty vessel for a heartless angel that took my father away from me and caused my mother's brutal death." Claire answered immediately, waiting for his bright face to slowly morph into complete terror like she was used to. But surprisingly, there wasn't fear flickering in his gaze once she said those words; instead, it almost looked like…understanding? No, that couldn't be right—no one could ever understand the pain and loneliness Claire had gone through when her promising childhood was ripped away from her from the one man she trusted most.

"My name is Ben," The boy said as his piercing gaze made Claire's stomach do somersaults, "And people say I'm a disturbed insomniac that scribbles demonic symbols from memory on my test papers and almost strangled a guy to death when I thought I saw his eyes flicker to black."

Claire's heart leapt to her throat but she forced herself to remain calm and collected as she tilted her head to the side and said coolly, "And what do you say?"

He went silent for a moment as his eyes flickered to the ground and in that moment Claire thought the rugged handsome boy looked strangely familiar to her somehow. But she wasn't able to figure out who he reminded her of since his green eyed gaze switched back to her as he said flatly, "I don't know."

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**Author's Note: If you have any questions or just any feedback at all (which I immensely recommend), please leave a review or pm me (I'll greatly respond either with a direct explanation or just answer it through my story). **

**But anyway, generic begging author aside, next chapter is when Jesse will make a dazzling appearance, and Ben and Claire won't be stuck in the Mental Institution for long ;). Also, I'm not sure whether to add any background romances (either Claire/Ben or Claire/Jesse) in this, so if you could, please answer this in your review (I'll take all votes into intense consideration). But until next chapter!**


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